


Something Good Can Work

by vinoharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2011 Era, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinoharry/pseuds/vinoharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Zayn's first date just so happens to be on Valentine's Day. Harry's bricking it.<br/>A 2011 Zarry au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Good Can Work

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii!!! i'm so incredibly nervous to post this! 2011 Zarry were all bright eyed and fluffy and I just had to write about it!
> 
> Happy Valentine's :)

Harry’s hands are shaking as he rings the doorbell. It’s their first proper date and it’s Valentine’s Day for Christ’s sake.

He didn’t – he didn’t think this through clearly. He runs his hands through his unruly hair. Squeezing the flowers in his hand he reckons he shouldn’t have gotten a bouquet. He should have gotten like… chocolates or something. Something manly.

Christ, he’s bad at this.

But then Zayn opens the door and he’s in a soft grey sweater and khakis and he looks – shit he looks really, really great. His eyelashes are long and thick, making his eyes appear that much wider and his skin looks soft. So soft Harry wonders what it would feel like against his cheek, his lips, his thighs. Oh Jesus.

“Those for me?” Zayn asks with a smirk.

“Um, yeah.” Harry practically squishes them as he thrusts them at Zayn’s chest.

“Thanks, I’ll just,” he nods his head back into his house and Harry waits as he turns his back. “You coming in?” Zayn asks with the same little quirk and shit, Harry’s usually smoother than this. He follows Zayn in, kicking his shoes off and wondering if anyone else is home.

They can spare a bit of time to dawdle, for Harry to look around at the family pictures on the wall. There’s some of a younger Zayn, but before Harry has a chance to comment, Zayn continues talking.

“M’parents are out, so’s Doniya, but the younger two are home with a sitter.” Harry can see Tangled playing on the television along with the top of two heads watching it.

One of the girls flips around quick as a whip at the mention of her presence. “Are you Zayn’s boyfriend?” She asks, voice sugary sweet. Her head’s tilted in interest and she’s got a confused frown on her face.

“Um,”

“Shut up Wali,” Zayn snaps, “he’s my date, s’different.”

Just the way Zayn says date makes Harry’s heart soar. He gives Zayn a small, appreciative smile, but he’s not looking.

“Your hair is dumb,” Wali says before turning back to the telly.

“S’not,” Zayn says, licking his lips. It’s quiet, just for Harry. “You look good, babe.” He turns before Harry has a chance to respond. He can’t even catch his breath, God.

Zayn’s chatting with someone in the kitchen, so Harry follows. It’s a girl with peppermint pink hair. “This is Perrie, she lives across the street.”

“Harry,” he says, holding out a sweaty hand. Perrie shakes it with a smile and they all make small talk while Zayn puts the flowers in a vase.

They’re an assortment of yellow and red and orange and the manliest colours he could find. He contemplated getting half a dozen roses, but with where he’s taking Zayn tonight, it just wasn’t in his budget.

His mum had offered to give him some money, but Harry wanted to do this all for himself; wanted to do it all for Zayn.

Harry really is excited. He’s been pining after Zayn somewhat pathetically and it took a lot of encouragement from Niall and their mutual friend Liam in order for him to work up the courage. He’s only really been mates with Zayn for a few weeks. Ever since Louis threw a party during Christmas break and Harry had finally gotten the courage to dance with Zayn for three songs before disappearing to excitedly text his sister.

Harry had asked him out after school on Friday, allowing the entire weekend to plan and freak out over it. Seeing him today, after texting not nearly as much as Harry would’ve liked over the weekend, had Harry’s heart fluttering like no other. He feels the same flutter now.

“You ready to go?” Zayn asks. He’s giving Harry an expectant look, perfect eyebrows raised. Perrie’s wearing a smirk.

“Um, yes,” Harry nods.

He’s unsure whether he should hold out his hand or not, but Zayn just laughs, clapping Harry on the back as he passes him. Harry stumbles to put his shoes back on. They’re a bit raggedy, but Zayn’s putting on converse too. He looks sharp, Harry’s glad he’s not too overdressed.

He opens the car for Zayn, who laughs and says thank you. Harry scoots around the front of the car, feeling self-conscious and shy. He’s only had less than a handful of face-to-face conversations with Zayn, which is why he was quite surprised when he agreed to go on a date with him. Harry knows he’s good looking, the boys and girls at school always tell him so, but –

But Zayn’s beauty is other-worldy. Harry’s never encountered someone like him.

“So, where you taking me?” Zayn asks when they come to the first intersection.

“Um, it’s called Tandoor Hut,” Harry says glancing at him. “It has really good pakora.”

“Oh, I’ve never been there before.”

“We can go somewhere else if you want,” Harry jumps in. “I didn’t,” his foot hits the gas too hard and slams them back into their seats. “I didn’t know what you’d want and my stepdad really likes it.”

“It’s all good Haz. I want to try it.”

Harry nods, calmed by Zayn. “You can fiddle with the radio if you want.”

“You have an aux cord?”

Harry nods, taking a hand off the steering wheel to grab it for him. 

Zayn plugs his phone in, then a second later Trey Songz filters through his sounds system. “This good?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods, trying to slow his breathing.

It’s got a bit of a sexy beat to it; a heavy bass that Harry can imagine them grinding too.

He’s got to stop thinking like that, thinking like anything’s going to come out of this date. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up too much, Niall would never stop making fun of him if this thing with Zayn didn’t work out.

And Harry really, really wants it to.

They sit in silence for the rest of the ride. Occasionally, Zayn sings the lyrics under his breath as Harry just bobs his head, trying to look cool. He thankfully undid the top button of his shirt.

“Thanks for like, taking me out,” Zayn says as they pull into the restaurant.

“Haven’t done that yet,” Harry teases, cutting the engine.

Zayn grabs his phone before following Harry’s lead out the door.

Harry says their reservation name a bit unsteadily, getting eyed by the waitress not unkindly. He flushes as she leads them to their table, unsure if he should pull out Zayn’s chair for him. That seems like it might be a bit too much, so he just takes his own seat once Zayn’s sat as well.

They’re served tea, but Zayn orders a Pepsi to which Harry makes a face.

“What?” Zayn asks, kicking him under the table.

Harry shrugs, sheepish. “Just like Coke.”

“You like Coke? Babe that’s awful.” Harry reckons Zayn just calls him that to see him blush.

“It’s better,” he defends, picking at the corner of the menu.

“It’s full of sugar and tastes like shit.”

“It does not,” Harry pouts. He doesn’t think he’s doing a very good job at looking affronted, but then Zayn wraps his fingers around Harry’s wrist and that lifts his spirits. It also deepens the perma-blush he’s got on his cheeks.

He lets go – reluctantly Harry hopes – when his drink arrives. “Do you know what you want?” Harry asks.

“Might get a korma or like kebabs,” Zayn shrugs.

“You could get both?”

Zayn laughs at that, corners of his eyes scrunching. There’s a tea light candle on the table that casts a shadow on his eyelashes. Harry’s a bit obsessed with them. “Don’t think I need both.”

“We could share, and-”

“Harry,” Zayn sighs, all fond exasperation. He grabs Harry’s hand this time, slipping his fingers underneath. “Relax, all right? I like you.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks, surprised.

“Yeah.” To prove his point, Zayn lifts Harry’s hand until he’s kissing the top of it. Harry has to look away before he compulsively admits his undying love.

Harry orders pakora for an appetizer and chicken kabobs just to be a shit. Zayn rolls his eyes, ordering chicken korma in a coconut sauce. They get a basket of naan to eat while they wait and in no time it seems like they’ve demolished their pakora as well.

Conversation flows easily. Harry was nervous for that, but Zayn’s nice to talk to. They discuss his art and how he’s nearly failing the statistic portion of his maths. Harry eagerly volunteers to help even though he’s barely getting a B in his class. He’s a year younger as well, surely not learning the same material. Zayn smiles like he knows, but he won’t stop looking at Harry as if he’s the best thing he’s seen.

Harry guesses he’s making an even more intense vomit-inducing stare.

They end up sharing their meals because Harry makes greedy hands for Zayn’s fork and Zayn snatches a kebab. The food’s really, really great and Harry’s glad they came.

The restaurant’s pretty crowded, but it gives them an excuse to talk in low voices and lean over their meals.

When the server’s clearing their plates, she asks if it’s on two bills or one.

“One,” Harry says at the same time Zayn says two. “One,” Harry repeats more confidently.

The woman just smiles at him, giggling as she walks away and Harry blushes.

“I can pay you know,” Zayn says. He doesn’t sound upset, just like he ought to tell him.

“I know. I asked you though.” Before Harry loses his nerve he tacks on, “You can pay for the next one.”

“The next one, eh?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods, knocking his ankle against Zayn’s.

Harry leaves a generous tip before following Zayn out the door. Just as they’ve gotten out the front, Zayn turns and swiftly kisses him. It’s just a brush of their lips and it’s slightly off-centre. It’s so fast that Harry doesn’t even have a chance to respond to it.

Harry’s blinking back shock, staring at Zayn’s retreating back. “Wait!” He calls even though Zayn’s not farther than two metres away. “Redo! I want a redo.”

Zayn laughs, back still turned. “You don’t get a redo.”

“That wasn’t even a proper kiss! I didn’t get to do it right,” he says as he finally catches up to him.

Zayn’s laugh is louder than ever, a full laugh that tips his body back. “M’serious!” Harry pouts. “I want a proper snog. I’m good at it, swear.”

“You don’t get a redo,” Zayn repeats.

He leans against the passenger door, clearly waiting for Harry to unlock it. “Please,” Harry whines. He knows he’s being pathetic but Zayn just kissed him without any warning. He didn’t even pucker his lips for Christ’s sake.

“You’re annoying, y’know that.”

“Fine,” Harry pouts, digging out his keys and unlocking it.

“Christ, come here, then.”

Harry doesn’t want to say he trapezes, but that’s very near what he does to get close to Zayn. He makes a sound akin to a squeal, but it’s a manly squeal – very manly.

Zayn pulls him in by the collar, letting Harry brace himself on the window and his hip. He’s probably going to leave a big, fat handprint on the glass, but he couldn’t care less. He told Robin he would wash the car this weekend anyway. Zayn smells so good up close; Harry just wants to breathe him in forever.

Harry leans forward, meeting Zayn halfway and then they’re properly kissing. Little pecks that lead to something deeper. Zayn bites his bottom lip as he pulls away, but Harry chases him, licks into his mouth. His tongue tastes a bit spicy, but it’s good and wet and Zayn’s flattened his hands down Harry’s chests until he reaches his waist.

He holds onto Harry’s love handles. Where he would usually be insecure, he feels free of judgement in Zayn’s hold.

Harry tips Zayn’s head back a little so he can get a proper go at his lips. They’re a bit dry, so Harry licks over both of them while he swipes over his. Zayn chuckles a bit, but Harry’s a greedy bastard and just wants more, more, more.

“Good?” Zayn asks, kissing at the corners of Harry’s lips.

Harry shakes his head, dragging in a raggedy breath until he’s squishing his lips up against Zayn’s again.

It’s the best first kiss he’s had in ages – possibly ever and he can feel his dick stirring in his baggy jeans. He pulls away after another second, letting them both catch their breath.

“Thanks,” Harry giggles once it’s over. He feels fifteen and heady all over again.

“Didn’t just kiss you just cause you begged,” Zayn teases, pecking him on the lips before turning around.

The ride home is a bit louder. It’s only eight and Harry really doesn’t want the night to end yet.

“Want to keep driving or?” He asks, turning in the opposite direction of Zayn’s house.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Zayn teases. He plugs his phone back in, this time it’s a bit of Chris Brown. Harry doesn’t necessarily like Chris Brown, he’s an awful person really. But Zayn’s singing along under his breath and Harry just wants to hold his hand.

“Want to sit together for lunch tomorrow?” Harry asks, not realizing how juvenile he sounds until Zayn’s laughing at him. Harry gnaws on his bottom lip feeling childish. But he was giddy and excited and Zayn did say he liked him.

Zayn rests his hand on top of Harry’s on the center console. “I think I’d like that.” He says and Harry glances at him for half a heartbeat before turning back to the road. “Louis might take the piss though.”

“Louis can stuff it.”

That gets another laugh out of Zayn, but it’s a kind one. “Good luck telling him that. He was bragging about his plans. He asked out Eleanor… Calder you know her?” At Harry’s nod he continues. “Lou’s a bit of a mess, it’s hilarious.”

“They’d be cute together I think.”

“Yeah,” Zayn nods, rubbing his thumb against Harry’s. He should – he should really not do that because Harry’s operating a motor vehicle and he’s very capable of crashing it. “You driving anywhere in particular?”

“Not really, do you want to go somewhere?”

“Depends, you got a curfew?”

“Um,” Harry stammers. He doesn’t really necessarily. His weekend curfew is two, but technically it’s a school night and he’s never really gone out on one of those before. “No,” he settles on.

“You sure?”

“Why, do you?” Harry rewraps both his sweaty hands around the steering wheel.

Harry glances over to see Zayn chuckling under his breath. He looks amazing, Harry can’t believe he landed a date with the senior and now they’re flirting.

“Take a right,” Zayn instructs, leaning forward a bit.

Harry does as he says, letting a hand fall once the turns been completed. He’s never gone down this side road, but it doesn’t look creepy. “Where are we going?” Harry asks after driving for a kilometer.

“There’s this pond,” is all Zayn says. “There’s like, frogs and stuff.”

“And stuff,” Harry mocks. It’s starting to loosen up a bit, confidence building.

“Don’t be cheeky now. Take this left.”

Harry accidentally slams on the break to try to make the turn when it’s holy unnecessary. He starts to apologize, but then Zayn’s laughing and he doesn’t feel all too embarrassed.

They pull up to the lake shortly after, Harry parking on an inconspicuous patch of grass.

Zayn’s the first to get out, coming around to Harry’s side to guide him to the pond. There’s a tiny gazebo and some rocks in the pond. It’s nothing spectacular; it’s barely lit up by a street light.

When Harry sits down, Zayn sits surprisingly close to him. But it’s chilly out. And neither of them have a jacket so… so it’s only logical Harry guesses.

“Do you come here a lot?”

“Sounds like a line,” Zayn chuckles, scratching his knees with his blunt fingernails. Harry’s never seen him in anything other than jeans and he’s wearing khaki’s for Christ’s sake.

“S’not,” Harry whines a bit, nudging him.

“I come here sometimes. Mostly draw, but sometimes I sing while I do it. Just chill out, you know.”

“You’re a good singer.”

Zayn lets out a short, self-deprecating laugh. “You’ve never heard me.”

“You sang in the car,” Harry points out.

“Nah, not really.”

It’s quiet then. Harry can’t hear any frogs or crickets or… other pond-y things.

“Well, I want to hear you.”

“Sure,” Zayn laughs still.

He’s so lovely. He’s like, carved by the God’s are something and Harry just can’t stop staring. His profile is amazing, especially when it’s getting dark and Zayn’s eyelashes fan out on his cheekbones. Harry really wants to kiss him again. Oh God, he’s already kissed him once, this is more than Harry could have ever hoped for.

“You mind if I smoke?” Zayn asks. He leans back, going for the packet in his pocket.

“I can think of something better to do with your mouth.”

Zayn blinks. Harry blinks. That wasn’t nearly as suave as Harry was hoping it would be. It didn’t sound dignified or cool. He also didn’t – shit – it sounds like he wants Zayn to suck him off or something. Which – which he does but.

He’s right there. Is the thing.

Harry’s been half in love with him since he saw him in year nine. He had remembered worrying once Zayn completed secondary that he was going to go away to a sixth form college instead of staying at their shitty little school. He had stayed though, as did a majority of the other students and Harry blessedly got to see him nearly every school day since then.

Zayn blinks again before sputtering out a laugh. “Now that was a line.”

“I didn’t – I didn’t mean it to be!”

“M’Harry Styles, m’so smooth,” Zayn imitates, completely missing the mark. He does some kind of smoulder that way too attractive to be any kind of parody of Harry.

“I am smooth!” Harry protests. He’s pouting a bit more trying to accentuate the lips like Niall had jokingly told him to.

“Yeah,” Zayn nods. It’s serious then. Zayn’s so close Harry could count the hairs in his eyebrows. Harry’s just staring at him like a proper creep until Zayn says, “C’mere then.”

“Wait, really?” Harry asks confused. Zayn just chuckles some more, getting a hand around Harry’s neck. Harry just stays there, not believing that that line actually worked. “Oh,” he manages when Zayn’s lips touch his again.

It’s like – it’s still as dry as it was the first time, except Harry’s not as frightened this time. This is their second kiss, their second snog, Harry’s got this.

So with a hand resting on Zayn’s thigh, and another on his hip, he kisses Zayn back. He hopes his breath hasn’t gone dodgy and he hopes that he’s using the right amount of pressure. He just hopes his kiss is making Zayn as light headed as Zayn’s making him.

He pulls away for a second, licking his lips once again. “You drive me crazy when you do that,” Zayn admits.

“Do this,” Harry licks his lips again, a little sloppier this time. It’s the opposite of sexy.

Zayn starts to grumble something, but before he can really say anything, Harry’s hauling him in for another kiss. Harry gets braver, lifting a hand up to cup Zayn’s jaw as Zayn takes his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking.

Harry sighs into his mouth, stroking his hand down to Zayn’s knee so he can prop himself up. He’s practically in Zayn’s lap. It’s really, really nice.

When he pulls back he’s breathless, just a little. He can feel the blush on his cheeks, praying it’s not too obvious.

“I wanna,” he gasps a little, eyeing Zayn’s neck. It’s so pretty and exposed and he just wants to lick it. And suck it a bit, give him a reminder of their date. And if people happen to see it while Zayn’s in his stupid statistics course then so be it.

Zayn tilts his head a little to the left. Whether or not that’s an invitation, Harry scoots that much closer and strokes a hand down Zayn’s arm until he’s latching onto his bicep. He kisses his neck, inhaling some swanky cologne. It’s probably Gucci; Zayn looks like he appreciates Gucci.

Harry kisses his neck, over and over until he manages to suck a bit. It’s a bit more methodical than he would like so he moves until he’s kissing Zayn again. When he deems Zayn fully-kissed, he moves back to where he was, nipping again when Zayn hisses out a breath.

Harry can’t help it; he’s feeling quite smug. There’s a small mark on Zayn’s neck that will barely be visible. He’ll have to squint to see it tomorrow, but he’ll know.

God, just the thought of his mark on Zayn gets him hot again. He can feel his dick stirring in his jeans, half hard and interested like it always is around Zayn.

“You’re so hot,” Harry says, nipping his bottom lip then kissing it once, twice.

Zayn chuckles, scooting back on the bench until he’s resting against the gazebo. It’s as much of an invitation as Harry needs, and he wiggles around until he’s straddling Zayn. The wooden bench is less than comfortable on his knees, but Zayn’s soft and warm when he holds onto his shoulders.

“A bit presumptuous babe,” Zayn laughs.

Harry hadn’t thought that it wasn’t an invite, but now… now maybe he thinks he’s been too brazen. “Sorry,” he says, making to get off, but then Zayn’s cupping his lower back, one hand on his upper thigh.

“Don’t be, just sit here for a second.” Harry gives him an odd look. “Listen.” Harry can hear it in the distance, it’s like, a croak or something. It’s a definite, croak.

“A frog!” Harry says a bit too loudly and Zayn puts a hand over his mouth.

Harry’s eyes immediately open, glancing down at Zayn’s hand. He doesn’t remove it, just fixes Harry with a glare. It shouldn’t make his dick twitch, but alas.

Harry licks his palm, Zayn doesn’t even flinch. After a few more froggy-croaky-things, Zayn’s palm shifts into just a single finger pressed against his lips. Harry sucks it into his mouth eagerly.

“You’re shameless,” Zayn murmurs, but his eyes are crinkly.

They kiss a bit more and it’s lovely, great even. But it’s chilly and Harry can feel Zayn’s goose pimples rising on his neck. They deem it time to go home and they hold hands – actual, hands! – back to the car.

The drive home is mostly silent, but they’re hands stay sweaty and together the rest of the ride.

“Thanks, for like, taking me out and everything,” Zayn says with a blush once they’ve pulled up to his house. A few lights are on and he can see that the living room window is still alight. 

Harry shuts off the car.

“Thanks for coming. I had a really great time.” His smile is shy, slightly frightened. “I’ll um, walk you?”

Zayn nods, unclasping their hands and meeting him on his side of the car.

Zayn runs a hand through Harry’s fluffy hair. It’s gotten a bit frizzier since Zayn’s hands had run through it a few times already. Zayn leans in for a peck, not quite the snog Harry had imagined. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Lunch?”

“Lunch,” Harry grins. He nods, taking a step back and nearly falling off the small cement landing. Zayn reaches out, grasping his hand.

Harry wasn’t really going to fall, maybe, hopefully, but the look on Zayn’s face as Harry righting himself before kissing him one more time. It’s sweet, short, just a bit harder than their last.

“All right, um, Happy Valentine’s Zayn,” Harry grins, walking down the path backwards.

“Happy Valentine’s Haz.”

**Author's Note:**

> thaaaaaanks for reading!!!
> 
> comments and kudos are much appreciated
> 
> you can find me on [tumblr](www.vinoharry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> :) come say hi!


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